Date: Tue, 26 Feb 2008 19:31:07 -0500
From: First Name
Subject: Sex and pain: Jack part 1 "gay male" "authoritarian"
This is my first story here, so guys, please, please, please send your
feedback, comments and suggestions to:
niftyauthor@gmail.com
A man walked into the room. I was naked, on my knees with my head bowed, my
hands behind my neck, elbows spread wide, my body leaning back to display my
torso in the most exposed way. He walked up to me and picked up the whip
from the stool, next to which I was kneeling. With my eyes lowered, I could
only see him from the chest down. He was at least six feet tall and
powerfully built; a business suit perfectly complementing his athletic
frame. His hands were large and strong, with long, thick fingers. Their
skin white, but with a healthy tan. He rubbed the leather wrapped wooden
handle of the whip in both hands, than gripped it with his right, swung it
back, and brought it down across my chest. It stung both of my pecks,
wrapping around under my left armpit. My body jerked, as the pain shot
through me; I let out a low moan, but managed to control the pain.
My dick quickly grew hard, sticking straight up, my balls freely hanging
below.
"Yeah", he exhaled, and then growled, "Look at me". I looked up at him
without lifting my head. He was in his late thirties. His dark hair was
wavy and cut medium length. His features were large and well formed; his
full-lipped mouth and dark green eyes, in a lustful cruel smirk. I swooned,
and my cock grew even harder. He grabbed my chin with his left hand and
jerked my head up, then roughly pushed two fingers into my mouth. I sucked
on them, without breaking eye contact.
He pulled his fingers out of my mouth and wiped them on my face, then hung
the whip around my neck, proceeding to slowly push both of his hands from my
straining shoulders down my hard chest and my taut abs, finally pressing
both of his thumbs on my nipples, and then pinching them hard. I winced as
sweet pain shot from my nips through my whole body. A low moan escaped my
lips.
Our eyes remained locked, as he continued to slowly work my nipples, just
barely decreasing the pressure, and then clamping down again. My head was
swimming in a sexual high, as my wide open eyes welled up with tears, and my
cock slit oozed a dollop of pre-come.
"How old are you, slave?", he asked matter-of-factly, without releasing my
poor nips.
"Twenty, Sir", I strained to answer clearly.
I have been a slave since I entered into six year's voluntarily indentured
servitude two years ago. There were no jobs, and no other options. My
indenture was immediately bought by a mens sex service, catering to clients
with sadistic inclinations. This was to be expected, as vanilla sex can be
bought cheaply from free sex workers.
But this is not the whole truth. The other part of it is that I could
hardly wait to become legal age to do this. I really wanted to be a slave.
I needed it. Ever since before puberty I had fantasies of submitting to
powerful guys who wanted to be in charge, who would dominate and denigrate
me, who would assert their masculine superiority over me, by using me for
sex in the most depraved ways and enjoy making my pain their sport.
In high school I was one of the jocks on the soccer team. But as soon as I
got home, I would jerk off to fantasies of my teammates pushing me downs
into the grass and the mud, kicking me around, flogging my body with their
belts, face-fucking me, raping my ass, coming on my face, pissing in my
mouth, -- you get the idea. So when 18 came, a few of the guys went off to
college, most joined the army, and I, well here I am ...
The guy in the suit twisted my nipples hard. I moaned aloud, and my eyes
teared even more, but I also pushed my chest out more. His cruel smile grew
wider.
"That's right slave, you love me torturing your tits as much as I do. Your
hot body is made for this shit! I am going to enjoy this!"
He suddenly let go of my tits and fist-punched me in the chest hard. My
body flew back, and I landed on the concrete floor with my legs bent double
under my thighs, my butt-cheeks touching the heels of my feet, my knees
spread lewdly, with my shaved asshole staring up at him, my hard dick
leaking pre-come on my straining abs, my torso arched back and my shoulders
and arms resting on the floor. I kept my head raised forward in order to
maintain eye contact with my new master.
He walked up to stand between my spread knees, painfully shoving the toe of
his wing-tipped shoe in my asshole.
"Hand me the whip, bitch", he spoke the words through his teeth, with abject
contempt in his voice, and cruel lust in his eyes. I bent my arm back
behind my hand, felt the floor for where the whip must have fallen from my
neck, and grabbed it once my fingers came in contact with the leather. I
extended my the my hand forward and upward as much as I could, why still
remaining prostrate on the floor before the man. He ripped the whip out of
my hand, and spat in my face. I instinctively opened my mouth to try to
catch it, but his spit landed on my neck. He extended the whip over my
body, and dangled the tip over my face.
"Kiss it, lick it, make love to is, slave! Show how grateful you are for
the attention it and I are going to give you. When we are done with you,
your hot slave fagot body is going to be covered with angry red welts. You
are going to swim in a sea of hurt. Are you happy to hurt for my pleasure,
slave?"
"Yes, master!", I moaned, as I strained to raise my head even more, and,
eventually, was able to bite on the leather tip, and slobber it with my
spit.
He reaped it out of my mouth, and yelled in rage, " I didn't tell you to
byte it, you fucking shit, you dumb animal! You are going to regret this!"
He brought the struck my torso full force with the whip, and again, and
again, and again. I was screaming my pain out loud. As if by magic, angry
red welts appeared across my chest, where only smooth skin was a moment
ago. My face felt hot, and tears were streaming down the sides of my face,
pooling in my ears, making them feel cool with moisture. My torso was
burning; my dick now lay flaccid on my flat stomach. I pleadingly looked
into his face. He looked flushed and sweaty and he was breathing hard. He
had a raging hard on that was trying to tear through his pants, a fat
cock-head almost visible through pre-cum soaked wool...
To be continued.